


Scope

by Jo (jmathieson)



Series: Tangents and Intersections ~ Kink Bingo 2013 [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, Guns, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-07
Updated: 2013-07-07
Packaged: 2017-12-18 01:17:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/874026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jmathieson/pseuds/Jo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Kink Bingo Round Six (2013) ~ Guns/Blades</p>
    </blockquote>





	Scope

**Author's Note:**

> Kink Bingo Round Six (2013) ~ Guns/Blades

They're lying side by side on a rooftop. It's 4:38 p.m. and they've been there for three hours. Phil Coulson considers himself to be a fairly patient man, but he is amazed, once again, at Barton's ability to simply watch and wait. Barton has had the scope of the sniper rifle to his eye for most of those three hours. Every twenty minutes or so, Barton takes a break, moves his cheek away from the gunstock, lays the weapon down, cranks his neck through a complete circle and then a couple of side-to-side stretches, blinks both eyes furiously for five seconds, and then picks up the rifle, slots it against his shoulder, puts his eye to the scope, and goes back to watching. He does this without comment or complaint. He's been doing it for the four years that Coulson has known him, but it's not often that Coulson gets to see it up close. Usually Barton is a voice on the com link, checking in and making a joke during those breaks. 

This time though, Coulson happens to be the one who knows the mark personally, so he's on the rooftop with Barton, waiting to ID the man. He has a pair of military grade binoculars in his hands, and for the first hour he spent a lot of time looking through them, watching, as Barton was, for the mark. But he knows damn well there's no chance he's going to spot anything before Clint "Hawkeye" Barton does, so for the last couple of hours he's just waited, and let Barton do the watching.

"Got something," says Barton quietly beside him, and Phil raises the binoculars to his face.

"From the southeast corner of the building, four floors above the window-washer's platform, six windows in from the corner. There are a bunch of standard gray office cubicles. The one immediately to the left of the one with the SpongeBob poster."

It takes Phil almost a full minute, but finally he spots the yellow blob that must be the SpongeBob poster Barton's talking about, though all Phil can see is a yellow blob. He slowly and carefully scans left, and, yes, there's a figure in the next cubicle, standing, leaning over to type something into a computer on the desk. There's no chance...

"I've got him, but these binoculars don't have anywhere near the resolution for me to be able to tell if it's our mark."

"Here." Barton is moving, and the next thing Phil knows, the sniper rifle is being pressed into his hands.

Phil carefully doesn't say something stupid like, "Are you sure?" This is a mission. They're here to do a job, which includes Phil identifying the mark so that Barton can take him out. The fact that Barton hates anyone touching his gear, especially his rifle (his bow.... don't even go there) doesn't enter into it. But that doesn't make Coulson feel any more comfortable about taking the rifle from Barton and snugging it up to his own shoulder so that he can look through the scope. Hell, he's seen Barton naked, more than once, but somehow holding his rifle feels more far more personal, and much more intimate. 

Of course technically it's not Barton's rifle, it's SHIELD's. There's a row of six identical Blaser R93 Tactical Rifles in the SHIELD armory, to be signed out and used by any sniper on a mission. Except everyone knows that the two on the far left only ever get signed out to Barton. And Phil knows that Barton spends some of his spare time each week at the armory breaking them down and carefully cleaning and oiling those two rifles. Phil can only guess at how much time Barton has spent rubbing his long, strong fingers over the gleaming wood stock of the rifle Phil is now holding in his own hands. 

Phil shifts himself into a comfortable prone position and snugs the stock of the rifle up against his cheek. The uncomfortable feeling of intimacy returns when he realizes that it's still warm from being pressed against Barton's face. Phil takes a breath and he thinks he can detect the scent of Barton's warm skin still lingering on the wood. Phil suddenly wonders what it would be like to lay his cheek against Clint's. To feel that warm skin against his own and inhale the... Phil checks himself. He has a job to do here. He steadies the barrel of the rifle in his hands so that he can look through the scope, his fingers wrapping around the smooth warm wood of the stock. He slides his hand back an inch to settle more comfortably, and his mind leaps from the smooth wood of the rifle barrel to stroking smooth skin pulled taut over powerful muscles, skin slightly damp from straining as Clint...

Phil finds the window washer's platform through the scope, counts four floors up and six windows across. Spots the yellow poster and looks at the figure in the next cubicle. The profile is right, but Phil can't be sure, not until the man turns, as if he's heard a noise.

"It's him." Phil quickly passes the rifle back to Clint, and then stays silent and still as SHIELD's best marksman settles himself to take the shot.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks always to my patient and understanding editor t!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr at: [Queen of Wands](http://jmathieson-fic.tumblr.com/)


End file.
